Dear one, 

Pour something warm.

Becasue some words arrive in the Café not as thoughts, but as letters that have travelled a long way to find their reader.

They carry no urgency.

 No need to be answered.

Only the quiet invitation to sit for a while… and feel what remains.

Here is one we found at the Window Seat...

Beloved,

I’ve stopped judging me for loving you.

 I’ve stopped trying to figure out why or how I could.

 I’ve stopped calling you and me names like fool.

I’ve stopped asking for loving you to be gone from me.

 I’ve stopped running from all our history, real and imagined.

It’s when you stop that magic happens.

What is… is. 

I love you.  That is all.

And my heart is full and deeply grateful to experience this love for you.

Mistress of the Brew